


Caution

by ensembleklavier (orphan_account)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Other, buuuut with that being said this is probably going to read more feminine, hinata deserves to be loved and happy, i also tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, i tried to make this both fluff and smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7509202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ensembleklavier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> “Maybe I hit the nail on the head earlier. I’m not good with words. Especially around you, apparently.” Hinata sighed. “If you’re saying…you didn’t mind what I was doing earlier…then…come here…I guess.”</p>
<p>He choked out the last few words, stood by the bed, and sighed as if someone had put the weight of the world on his shoulders.</p>
<p>You actually did laugh then, unable to hold it back, clamping your hand over your mouth too late. Part of it was just a release of nervous energy—it wasn’t like you were overly confident about this scenario either—but part of it was because Hinata’s version of seduction was just so <em>pained</em>, like he was fighting every inch of his being to not call the whole thing off and jump out the nearest window. You grinned again because that part of him was losing, and despite Hinata looking like he’d be willing to pay someone to punch him in the face, he WAS still here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caution

**Author's Note:**

> I want there to be more Hinata x Reader--he's precious and deserves to be appreciated more  
> Particularly with the upcoming anime: I kind of wrote this as a therapeutic antidote for whatever horrors go down in the despair arc  
> I'll probably write a few more of these with different characters as well, there's not enough reader fics across the board imo  
> Thanks to Yamimori for encouraging me/giving this a beta-read--they also write great hinata/komaeda x reader fics and intend to write more! If you're into the dr reader genre, I would definitely recommend checking out their work!

You had been waiting by the palm trees for over ten minutes now, counting the stars twinkling above you to pass the time. Hinata had pulled you aside while everyone else had been eating and said he had something he wanted to give you. You both agreed to meet up here around midnight, but he was definitely late, and you were staring to get concerned. You were both in a killing game, after all, and not knowing where Hinata was made you anxious.

Surrounded by dangerous unknowns, it was extremely important that you’ve found someone you thought you could trust. Hinata was predictable, in the sense that the two of you were similar: you often knew what he was feeling before he said it, and vice versa.

That was how the two of you met, actually—once the realities of your situation had sunk in, you were scared. Frightened of death, frightened of your classmates, but most of all, frightened of yourself, frightened of what you were capable of. In everyday life, you were harmless, sweet, even, but you relied too heavily on that pleasant exterior and had trouble allowing others to see your true emotions. You knew this mask would come in handy in a game like this, and you knew it was unlikely that your classmates would ever see it coming if you opted to act. That thought floated into your mind all too quickly, and you wondered what side a situation like this would bring out in you.

 So, you’d wandered away from the group as soon as you could after ensuring the overall first impression you’d left didn’t imply vulnerability and ended up at the park where the game had first started. You were sure nobody had seen any indication of the fear and doubt forming in your heart, and that’s why it had stuck out when Hinata Hajime had come looking for you after the rest of the group had finished talking.

“You seemed scared…,” he had said, “so I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to…y’know, do anything. It wouldn’t be good for any of us if you did.”

You had laughed—maybe you weren’t as good as you thought you were, if someone like Hinata could call you out that easily. The fact that he decided to come find you was rather interesting, even if he had personal motivations to do so. Normally you’d be concerned about being alone in an open area with someone in a situation like this, you weren’t the best at trusting people, but something about Hinata was…endearing.

You assured him you were fine, but he still insisted on sticking around for a bit, saying he’d be grateful if you’d help him keep his mind off things, although he probably just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t go off on your own again. Hinata didn’t give off the impression that he was particularly good at trusting others, either.

He was a bit awkward, he thought about things too long before he said them, and you didn’t know what exactly had inspired him to craft an antenna on his head, but you enjoyed his company, you knew he wouldn’t harm you. He was good at listening; he seemed to genuinely care about what you had to say, and vice versa. The two of you had talked much longer than you’d intended, and soon it was too late to safely be talking out in the open. He’d walked you back to your cottage, the two of you met up again in the morning during breakfast, and that cycle had repeated throughout the duration of the game, conversation after conversation.

He’d felt like a constant fixture on this island, despite the deaths that had occurred around you. Hinata felt familiar, comfortable, and that kept you sane. There weren’t many of you left, and you wondered how all of this would play out in the end, but Hinata’s presence had a way of forcing your brain to focus on him, on happier things.

You started to wonder if you should just go look for him—it was late, and it was about twenty minutes past when he had said to meet up. You took a few steps forward, narrowed your eyes, refocusing them in the darkness, and you spotted movement back by the cottages. Someone was pacing outside along the docks, back and forth. They looked anxious…no, guilty, maybe?

With Hinata missing, you decided the best course of action was to get closer, at least try to identify who else was out this late. You walked up as quickly and quietly as you could; hiding behind a palm tree close to the cottages, trying to find whoever you’d seen before, but you saw no movement.

You heard a door creak, however, and you quickly looked up to find the source of the sound, just barely catching Hinata’s cottage door closing.

_What the hell?_

Either Hinata had completely blown you off and forgotten about asking you to meet him, or someone had just broken into his cottage. Unsure about which option made you feel worse, you ran up the boardwalk, walked up to Hinata’s cottage, and smacked your fist against the door. It was less of a knock than it was a dull, angry, thud.

“Hinata! Are you in there?” You attempted to whisper, but it came out a lot louder and harsher than you had intended.

The door opened just a sliver, and Hinata peered through the crack. “Oh. Ha…it’s you…uh…sorry.” You watched him run his hand through his hair, noted how he avoided eye contact.

“You’re aware you were supposed to meet me outside half an hour ago, right?” you said impatiently, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Were you just pacing outside, right behind me _the entire time?_ Are you playing some sort of joke?”

“Uh, no, that’s not it at all…”

“Then what are you doing? You understand that just telling me to go stand out on the beach, alone, in the middle of the night, is NOT a particularly good idea in the midst of a killing game, right? You need to explain what this is about, now.”

Hinata sighed. “It’s going to sound really stupid, and I’m not sure if you’ll even believe me…but…I guess…just come in. You’re right; it’s not safe out here.”

After staring him down for a few moments, trying to size up his intentions, you decided to at least hear him out and followed him inside.

Hinata closed the door behind you and backed up a few steps, looking everywhere but at you. You noticed he had one hand behind his back.

“So…um…I really did get you something…I wasn’t lying about that. Just so you know…” His visible hand fidgeted around, picked at the hem of his shirt.

“It’s just…I’m kind of…unsure if this is the right time. I started doubting myself, whether or not this was a good idea. So I was outside thinking about it, and I decided if I don’t give it to you, and something…happened to you, I’d really regret it…” Hinata grimaced. “This isn’t making any sense, right?”

“Hinata…I really doubt this is that dramatic. Thank you for thinking of me, but if that’s what you decided, why did you just give up and go inside? Like, at the very least, you could’ve gone and told me you’d changed your mind. I mean, _I was right there._ ” You appreciated that Hinata cared about you enough to go to all this trouble, but putting your life potentially in danger for a gift that he didn’t even want to give to you left you more than a little irritated. “Something terrible could’ve happened to me. You understand that, right?”

His cheeks flushed a bright pink, and his fingers clenched tightly around the hem of his shirt. “I-I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you! I’m not that kind of person! If someone would’ve tried anything, I would’ve ran down there and helped…I made sure I knew where you were…”

Hinata shook his head and made a soft noise of derision, presumably at his own words.

“You’re not wrong, though. That’s not something I should’ve done, no matter how big of a coward I’m being…” He raised his eyes to meet yours for the first time that night, and part of you understood that whatever this was about, Hinata was taking this extremely seriously.

He wasn’t good at hiding his emotions, and his body language was often as blunt as his speech. This was the case tonight, his eyes shining with intensity; olive green fire—he was determined, you could tell, but he was also terrified. You could see that in the way he bit his lip, glance turning sideways, and then back down again completely once he saw you analyzing him.

“Hinata…I think if you have something to say, you should probably say it.” You said the words as gently as possible—whatever irritation you might have felt previously was slowly melting away as you understood how distraught he was. You felt very affectionately towards Hinata, and you didn’t like when he was hard on himself.

 “I just want to make you understand something, I guess, before it’s too late. I want you to understand…how I feel.”  

“…About what?”

“Um…about you.”

You flinched. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with this sort of discussion, it would do you some good to sort out your feelings towards Hinata as well, but a little voice in your head whispered all sorts of horrific possible outcomes.

If you admitted to yourself how  much you cared about him, and he admitted that he cared about you just as much, and one of you died…with no one else you felt you could trust on the island, what would keep you afloat? Would you become desperate, vengeful? Would you finally snap?  “Hinata, I don’t…”

“Just…take it.” He took a step forward, took his hand out from behind his back, and pushed the contents into your hands before you could protest. Hinata backed away, blushing furiously.

You looked down. You were holding some sort of small glass test tube with a cork plugging the top. It held a blooming red rose, the color vibrant and beautiful. You did love flowers, but…

“I do appreciate this, Hinata, but does it…mean something?” you asked, pushing the tube into your pocket. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

You didn’t think his face could blush any more, but his complexion appeared determined to prove you wrong, turning a very painful looking red.

“I…look, I’ve never done this before, okay? I mean…I wasn’t against it, but I didn’t know anyone I cared about enough to go for it—before you, anyway. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, and I’m not great with words, so I thought giving you something like this might make it clear…” Hinata laughed, and you picked up on a tinge of bitterness. “But I guess this wasn’t the way to go about it, after all.”

You didn’t like the self deprecating turn this conversation was taking, so you cut him off before he could say anything else. “Can you just…be clearer? I want to understand you, so…” You shrugged. “Help me.”

He took a deep breath. “Sonia told me you’re supposed to give that rose to someone you really care about—“ He sighed. “No, that’s not it. …Love. You’re supposed to give that to someone you love.” He threw his hands up in the air. “There. I said it.”

You stared at him. Your thoughts only took formless, foggy shapes, your brain throwing every emotion it had at you, all at once. “You…what?”

“I love you. Probably. No, ignore that, I do. Yeah. Just, uh, don’t make me say it again. Please.” His fingers were yanking on the hem of his shirt now, the fabric in danger of fraying. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way! I would…understand. I just can’t make these feelings go away—I tried! But…I’ve never felt this warm feeling inside my heart before I met you, and no matter what happens, I want to protect you from…” He gestured vaguely, wildly. “This. This situation we’re in. I don’t want you to die. And…I guess I wanted you to know that, because I don’t know how much more time we have left.” Hinata ran his hands through his hair. “Ugh…that was cheesy, wasn’t it?”

_Yes._ “It’s okay. Calm down. I’m not saying I don’t feel the same way, but…I need a minute.” You folded your arms, feeling too much to put into words.

“Okay.” Hinata sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands, looking like he’d just been given a life sentence for murder.

Looking at him like that, seeing him that vulnerable, your first instinct was to tell him that you loved him, you loved his gift, and the two of you could stay in his cottage forever if that’s what he wanted. You suppressed this, though, for the time being, because you knew you had to be _sure_.

Because you did care about Hinata so much, you couldn’t let your impulse to comfort take over—you had to be completely certain that your affection for him was more than just a really strong platonic bond. Flippantly saying something like that to make him happy and then, once the heat had cleared, finding that those weren’t your true feelings would make you sick to your stomach.

Sure, you understood what Hinata meant when he said that you made him feel a kind of warmth he hadn’t felt before—you felt the same way. However, you were unsure if that equated to love. You’d never had much experience dealing with the concept of love, so you didn’t have anything to compare it to…

You were still stuck in a swirling miasma of your own thoughts when Hinata interrupted you.

“Maybe…you can take the night to think about it? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to answer me right now…” He stood up and walked closer to you, closer to the door. “Okay?”

You weren’t sure if that was what you wanted, but you could tell you were stressing him out by just standing here. “…That’s fine. I just want to be sure, you know?”

“Yeah. I…understand.” Hinata walked up to the door, opened it for you. You walked past him, turned around on his doorstep to say your goodbyes.

You looked up at him, trying to gauge what he was feeling. Most of the emotion you’d seen earlier was still there—the intensity, the nervousness—but there was something new, something in the way he wasn’t afraid to look at you now, in the way his gaze softened when he did.

Affection…and depression. Hinata loved you, but he was sad about it. He looked like he’d been rejected. Had that been all he’d gotten out of your brief conversation? Also…resignation. Did he assume this was going to be the outcome all along? You wouldn’t leave him like this, you had to make him understand he was wrong, but simply saying so wouldn’t have any effect. You knew him; he’d just think you pitied him.

You were still unsure what to do when you heard Hinata whisper a quiet “goodnight” and start to close the door. Out of desperation—a knee-jerk reaction—you reached out and grabbed his hand. He turned around, confused. “What—“

“Just…come here.” You pulled a bemused, pliable Hinata towards you, and wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his chest. You felt him startle, flinch, but eventually you felt his arms encircling you back, his muscles relaxing. “Hey,” he said softly, “are you okay? Look, I’m not…upset, if that’s why you’re doing this…”

“No, I’m doing this because I think you’ve misunderstood the situation,” you said, voice muffled against his chest. “I care about you. A lot. Please…understand that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hinata replied, burying his face in your hair. “But…you don’t have to comfort me like this. It makes me feel guilty, you know? I mean, to be honest, I knew…I was pretty sure you wouldn’t feel the same way about someone like me. So, it doesn’t hurt that much. I…know myself. I know I’m nothing special. Honestly…it wouldn’t surprise me if I don’t even have a talent to remember in the first place.”

“That’s…not true,” you said, lifting your head up. You wanted him to know he was wrong, even though you knew contradicting him was in vain. It _hurt_ , to hear him talk like this. Some people said this sort of thing flippantly, or for shock value, or to get sympathy, but with Hinata you knew he really meant it with every fiber of his being—he couldn’t see how much he helped everyone around him, how well-liked he was. His words felt heavy, you could hear the emotional weight in his voice. He thought himself to be very little, and the fact that he couldn’t remember his talent seemed to have made things worse. Could this really be because you had a talent and he couldn’t remember his? Was Hinata really that stupid?

He pulled away, looked down at you, smiling sadly. “You can go now. Really. If you’re scared, I’ll walk you back to your cottage—oh, I mean, unless you’d rather not be around me right now. I’d understand that…in fact, if you don’t want me to talk to you anymore, I’d understand that, too. Just, uh, tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.”

“I think I need you to be quiet.” It came out harsher than you intended, but you were starting to get angry. Not at Hinata, but at the ridiculous inferiority complex that bullied him, giving him the idea that someone like him didn’t have a chance with you.

“Someone like me”…who did he think he was, Komaeda?

Perhaps words weren’t cutting it tonight. Your stomach was a bubbling cauldron of emotion, threatening to overflow—if you just left, you suspected you’d never be able to make Hinata understand. He’d keep his distance from you for the rest of the trip, smiling sheepishly and making pleasant conversation when he had to, but things wouldn’t be the same. There wouldn’t be any going back to the bond you’d had…so maybe the only way you could handle this without losing him was to move forward and sort out the specifics later. If you were this reluctant to let him go, these emotions had to be something worth exploring.

“Ha…I’m sorry, I have been talking a lot tonight. I’ll just…stop.” The sheepish smiles had already started. _Hinata, you’re a lot smarter than this._

“Good.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to you. You watched his eyes widen as you moved your other hand up to his face, touching his cheek, sliding it into his hair. You kissed him then—and this wasn’t just to reassure him, you found yourself really wanting to--softly, slowly, barely, waiting to gauge his reaction. He didn’t really respond, so you tried again, and by the third time you were concerned that you might have made a mistake, but as you were about to pull away you felt a hand wrapping around your waist, keeping you where you were, and Hinata was kissing you back, none particularly gently.

He held you against him with one arm wrapped around your back, the other clenching in your hair. He felt desperate, hungry—you could tell that he was afraid to let this moment slip away. Hinata clung to you like he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough and something about that made your heart hurt.

When you pulled away to breathe, he was panting, too, and the bright pink blush from earlier was back.

You decided that making Hinata blush was rather…satisfying, in its own right. You liked the fact that it was _you_ who was making him so flustered, that _your_ touch had so much power over him. You wanted to explore that power, see how far you could take it.

“Hey, Hinata?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Do you want to go inside? The door is still open.”

He blinked and looked around, like he just now remembered you were both outside, making out where anyone could see. “Um…we probably should. Right? Unless you’d…still rather leave…”

“I don’t want to leave, Hinata.”

“Then…okay.”

He backed up into the cottage; you followed, and closed the door. He stared at you. “What…do you want me to do?”

“You can just kiss me again, Hinata.”

“Oh. Right.” He tentatively grabbed your hand, pulled you back to him.

Something about the small enclosed space and Hinata’s thinly veiled desperation to touch you quickly lit a soft, intense fire in the pit of your stomach. He was politely hesitant, chaste, but you noticed his hands were shaking and when you wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling him deeper into your kiss, you heard him groan deep in his throat, felt his grip on your waist tighten. He wanted this, wanted _you_ , and you idly wondered whether or not he had imagined this before. 

You decided you liked the feeling of being pressed up against Hinata, liked the complete absence of space between you. How tightly he was holding you at this point made you really feel like you were _his_ , and you decided you liked that, too. You wanted more of it.

When the two of you separated to breathe, you moved your mouth down to his neck, kissed him there once, twice, listened to how you made his breath hitch, felt his pulse quicken beneath your lips. You tried lightly nipping at his skin, leaving soft indents, heard him gasp, his fingers tightening in your hair enough to hurt a bit. Hearing how easily Hinata responded to you brought about the urge to do more---this wasn’t enough, this wasn’t close enough.

Hinata apparently seconded this opinion: you felt him leaning into you, pushing against you, forcing you to take a few balancing steps back in order to not fall over. You were sure he wasn’t aware he was doing it…at least, until he had you against the doorframe and was pressing against you even harder. He really was losing himself in this; the Hinata from a few minutes ago would be stuttering out variations of “I-Is this okay?” and hesitating to get this close, but he seemed to have forgotten his cautiousness and previous anxiety.

He was everywhere: you felt him on your lips, hand wrapped around your neck, thumb tracing your jawline. You felt him against your chest, his body pressed tightly against yours, both rising and falling erratically together. You felt him under your shirt, his free hand pushed up under the fabric, fingertips sliding up your stomach, making you shiver--until his touch was gone, his hand pulled away, his lips left yours and Hinata was backing away, eyes wide, wearing an expression somewhere between concern and extreme distress.

“Oh my _god_ , I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry. That wasn’t…I mean, are you okay?” He ran a hand through his hair, tugged at his tie. “You definitely should’ve stopped me…not that it’s your responsibility to do that! Uh…I’m just making this worse, right? I’m really sorry…”

_Ah, there it is._

“Hinata, have you considered that I didn’t stop you because I didn’t want to…well, stop?” The words came out before the implication of what you were admitting sunk in, and you felt your face heating up. “That wasn’t…bad or anything…”

After a few seconds of Hinata staring at you like you’d just said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard while you blushed in shame, he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, muttered a quiet “oh” and looked down. He bit his lip hard before speaking, like he was trying to suppress the words he was about to say, as if they were flowing out of their own accord.

“I mean, I don’t know what you think this is going to be, but I don’t know how to do any of…this.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying. That’s not what I’m saying, at all…”

Hinata’s face was so red that the blush had somehow spread to the tips of his ears, and you had to suppress a giggle. It was sort of…attractive, to watch someone who was normally so matter-of-fact and composed become so embarrassed and disheveled, particularly because you knew the root cause was ultimately, you.

 “Maybe I hit the nail on the head earlier. I’m not good with words. Especially around you, apparently.” Hinata sighed. “If you’re saying…you didn’t mind what I was doing earlier…then…come here…I guess.”

He choked out the last few words, stood by the bed, and sighed as if someone had put the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You actually did laugh then, unable to hold it back, clamping your hand over your mouth too late. Part of it was just a release of nervous energy—it wasn’t like you were overly confident about this scenario either—but part of it was because Hinata’s version of seduction was just so _pained_ , like he was fighting every inch of his being to not call the whole thing off and jump out the nearest window. You grinned again because that part of him was losing, and despite Hinata looking like he’d be willing to pay someone to punch him in the face, he WAS still here.

Hinata didn’t find this as amusing as you did, and scowled. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s not,” you agreed. “That was all just really incredibly hot, Hinata. To be completely honest, my body just reacted on its own.”

He rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together, and tried not to smile. “Yeah, okay.” Hinata reached out and grabbed your hand, pulled you back over, closing the gap between you once again.

Things progressed quickly— for both of you, getting concrete verbal affirmation from the other quickly eliminated the remaining hesitancy. It was hard to form coherent thoughts and you found yourself acting on instinct, listening to the soft sounds Hinata made to tell you what to do next.

Random, fleeting observations passed through your mind, each as transient as the next: Hinata smelled a bit like flowers. His tie kept getting in the way. He flicked his tongue against your bottom lip every time before starting a new kiss, asking permission. He really seemed to like playing with your hair, fingers weaving in and out between strands.

You were vaguely aware that he’d tugged you onto the bed at some point—you were straddling him now, legs wrapped around his waist. Hinata’s hand pulled on the back of your hair, just enough to make to tilt your head back. He kissed your lips one more time before moving down to your neck, nipping at your skin near a pulse point, just like you had done to him earlier. You made some sort of noise between a gasp and a giggle in response: not only did you really, really like the idea of tentative, cautious, respectful Hinata taking a bite out of your neck but you also realized he must have _learned_ it from earlier, liked you kissing him there so much that he mentally noted it and wanted to do it back, and there was something immensely endearing about that. You felt him smile against your skin.

You decided to take things a bit further, so while Hinata was preoccupied with leaving bruises along your collarbone (yet another departure from Hesitant Hinata—he had to be aware people would see those tomorrow), you slid your hand down his chest and moved it between his thighs, searching. When you found what you wanted, you pushed your palm up against him, once again using the hitches in Hinata’s breath as a barometer for what he liked.

It didn’t take long before he was shaking. Eventually, he moved his lips away from your neck and simply buried his face in your shirt, settling for softly whining against your shoulder. Hinata was panting, gasping, shallow breaths coming quick and fast. You hoped he wouldn’t pass out.

What if he DID pass out, and died? Would that make you the killer? Asphyxiation by sexual arousal?  As soon as that thought slipped in, it was replaced with a image of Komaeda, “guiding” everyone to the truth about Hinata’s death, clenching his fist in complete disgust and giving a lengthy monologue about how there was no hope in making someone so horny that they died.

No, no, no—you wouldn’t let yourself even imagine that trial.

 As you tried to beat back the image of Souda screaming that it should’ve been him, you felt Hinata reach out and grab your wrist.

“Hey, wait…” he mumbled, trying to catch his breath. “Stop.”

You jerked your hand back. “W-what?”

_Is he actually hurt? Oh my god…did I jack him off to death? Is this it?_

“…Can I do something to you, instead? I feel guilty.”

_Oh_. “Well, yeah. Of course.”

“Uh. That’s not exactly it. I guess what I’m asking is…if we can do something together?” Hinata didn’t blush this time, but he did look down.

“Do something together?”

“Yeah. I think I want that…with you.” He pressed his head against your shoulder, nuzzling against it, arms still wrapped around you. “Is that okay?” His voice was low, gentle, shy.

You could feel his hair tickling your cheek, bristly and coarse—Hinata’s hair was always pointy, but it felt especially wiry tonight. You recalled a moment from a few days ago in which you had picked a leaf out of his hair, and commented that you liked his hairstyle, that it had made him easy to remember in the crowd of new faces when you had first met. You briefly wondered if he’d spent extra time on it tonight. You’d spent longer on your own appearance, too—you always did when you knew you’d see Hinata. A shared impulse, maybe.

“That’s fine,” you whispered into his hair. “I…want that with you, too.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

“Okay.”

Hinata pulled you deeper into his lap, gripping your waist to move you forward. After a brief pause, he ran his hands up the curvature of your side, pushing your shirt up and off with them.

When he was done, you started struggling with the knot of his tie, with the buttons on his shirt. You could feel his fingertips gliding across your skin, over your ribcage, exploring, marveling. He traced random patterns and swirls, drawing pictures you couldn’t see.

Feeling his touch interrupted your concentration, leaving goosebumps and shivers where your thoughts should be—you kept forgetting what you were supposed to be doing, it took you far longer than necessary to get his shirt off. You suspected Hinata noticed, and your suspicions were confirmed when he lifted his head up and you saw a smile playing around his lips. You succeeded eventually, though, tugging his shirt up and off his arms as he watched you.

Feeling his bare skin against yours was like shoving your finger into an electrical socket--you really weren’t used to too much physical contact, and most certainly not with Hinata. Your skin felt hot, your face felt hot, but you _liked_ it, liked hearing him inhale sharply when you pressed your chest against his, liked when he looked at you and you looked back, his eyes only filled with devotion, intense and desperate.

You felt his hand pushing against the small of your back, making the two of you closer, closer, until you were so close that when he pressed his mouth against yours you couldn’t be sure who was who. And you didn’t really _care_ , you were happy to let yourself just give into it all, give into his touch, give into the tidal waves of heat roiling around in the pit of your stomach.

After everything that had happened on the island, the hours, days, weeks of constant vigilance and tension and caution, letting Hinata turn off the metaphorical switch of your thoughts was…comforting.

You felt his fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts, heard him ask if this was okay again in between kisses. After you nodded, you slid off his lap and on to the bed, legs hanging off the side. He stood in front of you, pulled the fabric downwards, fingertips brushing against your thighs. Hinata stared.

“Why daffodils?”

“Uh, what?”

“Why are there daffodils on your underwear?”

“Hinata.”

“They’re weeds. Flowers would be cute, but daffodils are literally weeds.”

“ _Hinata._ ”

He coughed, rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I guess…I’m still a little nervous.”

 “Fine. Let me see yours.”

“My _what?_ ”

“Your underwear. I want to judge away at yours, too.”

“I’m not judging you,” Hinata mumbled while undoing his belt buckle. “They’re just plaid.”

You grabbed his wrist. “Let me do it. You got to take mine off.” He moved his hand away without complaint, and you undid the top button, pulled his pants down and off his legs.

“Hinata…I don’t know why, but they’re kind of cute.” You laughed. “Plaid suits you.”

“I don’t hate daffodils, you know. I wish I would’ve known you liked daffodils, I would’ve gotten you some of those instead of a rose…but they’re weeds…you might have gotten the wrong idea…never mind, I wouldn’t have.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

You hooked a finger on his boxers. “I don’t know why, but that’s kind of cute, too.” You tugged on the waistband a bit as he rolled his eyes, pulling him forward. He complied, and when he hit the edge of the bed, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him downwards, on top of you.

Hinata looked down at you as you looked up at him. After a few moments of staring, waiting, watching, he smiled, soft and sincere. You slid a hand up his cheek, into his hair, and moved your mouth up to meet his.

This kiss felt different than the previous few—it started out slow and soft, Hinata asking permission after each kiss again, but eventually he stopped, his gentle touch turning more desperate and hungry. You felt him forgetting, losing himself, giving over to whatever impulse had started all this in the first place.

Occasionally he’d catch your lower lip in between his teeth, nip at it until he heard you make a noise, any noise, a whimper, a moan, and then he’d let it go--you could feel him suppress a smile when he went back to kissing you.

_Annoying._

“Hinata…” you said, breathless, “quit teasing me.”

You felt him smile again.  “I like listening to you,” he whispered, running a hand across your chest, back and forth. “I think I want to hear more, okay?” His hand slid downward, pushing into the waistband of your underwear.

Hinata had said he had no idea what he was doing, that he hadn’t done this before, but you wouldn’t have known that if he hadn’t said it. After a bit of exploring, experimenting, he touched you at a pace that was _almost_ it, but not quite, and you knew he was doing it on purpose. He watched your face, taking in the sounds you made, pinned one of your legs down when you instinctively tried to move your thighs together so you were unable to get any relief.

You could _swear_ he was holding back a laugh, so you bit your lip, refusing to let him hear any sounds you might make just to spite him.

After Hinata realized what you were doing, he sighed. “Fine.” He pulled his hand away, started to pull your underwear off.

“I’ll just have to make it worse,” he said, smiling innocently.

You didn’t realize that he’d tugged his boxers down, too, until you felt him up against you—not making any move to go inside you, but just… pressed himself against you, grinding slowly, incredibly slowly.

He used his body weight against you so you couldn’t move away, even just a little. All you could feel was _him_ , and it was agonizingly unfulfilling—as soon as he’d hit a spot you actually liked, he would move away, and when he came back he’d just barely let himself touch it. You couldn’t help it, you moaned against your best efforts, mouth pressed into his shoulder.

You felt Hinata shudder against you. “Tell me you want me,” he whispered, inches away from your ear.

“I want you,” you whispered back, fingernails digging into his skin.

“Tell me again.” He was pushing into you now, his breathing shallow and ragged.

“Haa…I want you…Hinata …please…” You were seeing spots, your vision darkening as you stared wide eyed up at the ceiling. You could feel him inside you, relief coursing through your veins, your fingernails sinking deeper into his skin.

He pressed his forehead against yours, moaning quietly, the soft sounds he was making mingling with yours. You silently decided you liked listening to him, too.

            You were sweating now, gasping with every rise and fall of his hips. His head fell down against your shoulder, and you felt him nuzzling against your skin, hair tickling your cheek as he mumbled words of affection.

You whispered his name, curving your body up into his. He pushed back against you, whimpered in response. You heard yourself gasp, arching your head back. The heat that had been pooling in your stomach spread out across your entire body, into your arms, your feet, your head, your chest.

“Hinata, Hinata, Hinata, Hinata, Hinata—“

He made a choking noise, mouth pressed against your neck. “I’m…ahh…”

You ran a soothing hand through his thoroughly undone hair as he rode out his orgasm, soft tremors wracking his body. When he finally stilled, he sighed, leaving a few quiet moments before he pulled out and rolled off onto the covers.

 

  

* * *

 

 

“You know I’m teasing you until you scream next time, right?” you said defiantly, more than a little embarrassed. You were on your back, under the blankets on Hinata’s bed. Sides pressed together, you both stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

“Next time…” Hinata mumbled quietly to himself, smiling. He laughed. “I’d probably like it. Yeah, I kind of want you to do it. Go ahead, try it.”

“That…ruins it.”

“I’ll pretend to hate it.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be blushing in shame right now? Where did your innocence go?”

Hinata shrugged. “It’s gone.”

“You had it, like, an hour ago.”

“Gone. Until tomorrow, anyway, when I wake up and come to my senses and go into shock.” He paused. “You know I didn’t give that rose so you’d sleep with me, right?”

A giggle escaped your lips and it took a few moments before you composed yourself enough try to respond. “Yes, Hinata, I know you didn’t give me that rose so I’d sleep with you.”

He frowned. “I hate when you do that. It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.” You propped yourself up on one shoulder. “Hinata, I’ve met you. I can’t see you even hugging anyone you didn’t have genuine affection for. I know you’re not that kind of person.” You smiled. “In fact, I’m kind of flattered you’d trust me enough to get this intimate in the first place.”

“Yeah, well…that’s fine, I guess. And…I mean…I want you to know that…if you want…I’d probably like it if…you called me by my first name. I feel close to you…obviously…so…” Hinata said, trailing off.

“Hey, Hajime?”

He turned to you, his eyes wide open. “Uh…what?”

“I probably love you, too.”

Hinata stared at you for a few silent seconds, then his eyes softened and he smiled—not a half smile like he normally did, but a genuine smile that reached his entire face. He had dimples.

“You know, I didn’t expect you to say that. I didn’t expect...any of this,” Hinata said, gesturing out into the open air. “I don’t really know what I did to deserve it, but if you feel that way, I’m really happy.”

He laughed. “Hey, did you know we’re still in a killing game?”

It was a morbid joke, but you laughed, too—it definitely didn’t feel like it. In the midst of an uncertain future, this was a moment’s reprieve—but more than that, it was a reason to survive. You wanted to protect this, protect whatever bond the two of you had established tonight. In this moment, you felt that was possible, like nothing could break this newfound happiness, like you may end up coming out of all of this whole and intact. It was a comforting thought.

“I’m going to turn off the lamp now, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight, Hajime.”

He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close against his chest, mumbled a muffled goodnight into your hair.

You smiled for the last time that night and closed your eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at http://bullet-refutation.tumblr.com/ !!  
> I'm currently completely consumed by the dr3 anime, feel free to come talk to me about it!


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